


Hatta Naltaqi Mujaddadaan

by KenrakenOkwaho



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Death, Delusions, Eventual Smut, Gods, Heavy Angst, Implied Slash, Introspection, M/M, Male Slash, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Regret, Slash, Slow Build, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9997922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KenrakenOkwaho/pseuds/KenrakenOkwaho
Summary: They are trained to accept death and welcome it. They are trained to kill and give their lives for the Brotherhood's cause. They are not trained to deal with petty feelings. They are not trained to love. Their hearts begin to crack when it finds them. They crumble when they lose it and they fall.





	1. Al'awham wa'ahlam/Illusions And Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy and Feedback, I would like to know your opinions!

I loved you... I loved you, and you left me... you left me because you are... because you...  **were**  reckless again, you were reckless for the last time like the arrogant and impulsive novice I **always**  knew you were. I told you not to do it, I told you it was wrong, I told you it was a mistake, but you did not listen, you never did, and so you killed an innocent man on your own volition, breaking the first tenet of our Creed. I was so furious, but I followed you anyway, I **always**  have, what a fool I was... what a fool I still am for loving you, for thinking you would change. What I saw as discretion, you transformed into cowardice, what I saw as a risk, you believed to be a chance at victory. It's oddly funny because we have been that way since forever, on opposite sides, arguing, having completely different mentalities... and it's ironic, so, so, so ironic, because we somehow clicked since the first time we met and it all fell into place, the harmony of our fighting, I used to see it as a graceful dance, the impeccable missions we accomplished, we were invincible, we were feared, and, above all, we were respected. But then you went and destroyed everything we worked for all those years, you rushed and craved for a kind of glory that I could not comprehend, the kind of glory only you could understand as you broke the other tenets like a single-minded murderer with no real purpose for such deeds, compromising the Brotherhood with no remorse.

 

And  **I**  allowed it,  **I** allowed mistake after mistake... like a never-ending vicious circle,  **I**  am to blame because I felt so damn helpless in the face of your power, in the face of the conspicuous superiority I fiercely tried to ignore and deny for so long.

 

Everything happened so quickly, one moment you were there, the next you were gone, already on your way down towards the waiting Templars. I tried to cover you, I tried to protect you from your own errors, from your own fallacy, but I have failed. My mind slowed to a stop, blurry, almost blank with fear, focused solely on you as I watched in self-induced slow motion how you drew out your hidden blade, attacking with the savage thirst for enemy blood. You never had the audacity to think before you act, despite the skills and rank you were blessed with. You never saw it coming, the brute strength of de Sablé as he stopped you effortlessly. Do you remember what I did? I striked, I striked without stopping to think, but I was too late, the sound of snapping bones rippling through the air. Then, he let go, throwing you into a column, the cracking of your skull against smooth stone bouncing off the walls as you went limp, the sharp edges of your broken arm and leg peeking through your parted flesh, crimson liquid flowing freely everywhere, tainting your pristine robes. Yet the giant man did not attack, he simply smirked as three soldiers became ten, ten soldiers became twenty, the temple teeming with parasites as they infested every corner, every route of escape. You just laid there, unconscious, strangely peaceful through all of that chaos, while me and Kadar fought tooth and nail to defend you. We failed miserably, we were surrounded, blocked on every flank. Our freedom was right behind us, only three Templars preventing our escape.

 

It would have been easy to just leave you there, but we couldn't, we wouldn't, so we stayed.

 

Things kept getting worse from there, and, after a while, I urged Kadar to flee, sacred treasure be damned, I did not want to take him down with us. I yelled at him to run and never look back, my voice roaring over the sound of blade against blade, and, for once, he really listened, unlike you, sprinting away with tears streaming down his too young face. After that, everything is hazy as I kept fighting, exhaustion blackening my vision as my hidden blade broke, only my sword remaining to deflect the rising enemies. Until I heard you, uncharacteristically meek, begging for the first time in your life, begging me to leave. I did not realise back then the reason for your sudden change, but I do now and I condemn you for hiding it away. I did not leave, I stayed right by your side, I asked if you could walk, but you did not respond. They backed me up against the column even more, and I lost focus for an instant, a soldier seizing the opportunity as my sword flew out of my hand. I fell, I couldn't even stand on my on my feet, I abhorred the sensation of my knees touching the ground, I felt humiliation, I felt the rush, the fear of death I shouldn't have had, my eyes widening as he prepared to strike. I closed them tightly, waiting for the blessing of God's peace. It never came. Your blood snaps me out of my serenity, splashing on my cheeks... I somehow knew it was yours before I saw it, and as I opened my eyes, the image of your mighty form above me blinds my mind, my soul, my heart as all three clench with pain when they see the gleaming of light reflected on the sword piercing your chest. You stood there tall and proud, arms spread like the wings of the eagle you were and still are known to be. As you looked back at me, a sad smile playing on your lips, and whispered _"Yarukd."_ I knew it was your last leap of faith, I knew that was the moment we part ways.

 

Now, I'm standing here, before your empty grave, thinking about what could have been if we were not so stubborn, so thick-headed, so bent on competing with each other, reaching the point of almost hating each other. I failed, and you failed as much as I did, at least we have failed together.

 

Now, I hate you even more, why didn't you tell me? I saw it in your eyes back then, I know you loved me. Now, I hate myself, I hate myself because I let envy and rage control me, and I hate myself because I realised I love you when it was too late.

 

Now, all I have are memories I dread because they aren't how I would have wanted them to be, all I have are dreams of a life that we were not worthy of, it seems, dreams of soft lips caressing my rougher ones, of golden eyes staring into mine, of calloused hands touching my feverish skin, of bodies warming up as they embrace, of training in the morning sun with you, my brother watching us, smiling and content as we banter.

 

But they are only dreams, delusions, they were never meant to happen, we were never meant to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the potentially inaccurate translation. Feel free to correct any mistakes.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: kenrakenokwaho.tumblr.com


	2. Alkawabis/Nightmares

                                                                      ** _Why?                                                    Why?_**

**_Why?_ **

 

**_Why didn't you save me?_ **

**_Why?_ **

 

**_Why didn't you tell me?_ **

**_Why?_ **

**_Why did you leave me?_ **

 

My scream echoes through the night, bouncing off the cold walls of the sleeping fortress of Masyaf. Beads of sweat drip down my face, landing on the already soaked sheets covering the lower part of my toned body, the same question repeating itself over and over again in my head, voiced by the one ghost of my past I will never be able to forget. My eyes sting with unshed tears, head, soul, heart, **everything** throbbing from the force of that haunting baritone breaking every mental barrier I've been putting up in order to find peaceful bouts of sleep. In hindsight, they never work, no matter how hard I try, golden orbs always return, always judge, always accuse, the same **_Why_** leaving plump lips, pulled back into a sneer, plaguing my exhausted mind each time I let the comfort of my closed eyelids take over my sight, be it morning, noon or night.

 

Three years have passed since that faithful day, the day I lost you, the one I found too late I truly loved, the day I found myself without a purpose for my agonising life. **I left you**... I'm so, so sorry. I left you there to die **alone** , **abandoned** , while I ran, I ran and ran without ever looking back. It hurts, it hurts so much, and I remembers everything so clearly. I remember the bright rays of the sun shining over Jerusalem, my battered figure basking in the warmth of the ardent aster, unwanted, yet so soothing that it was repulsive compared to the bloody mess I left under the heap of rocks drowning the sacred Temple of Solomon.

 

I remember how I dragged my tired feet through the crowded streets of the city, all ensanguined, white robes torn, destroyed beyond repair, the heavy metal of my weapons pressing down on my strained muscles. I remember how I didn't care who saw me, I didn't care if guards were going to attack me and I certainly didn't even try to avoid them. Maybe I wanted that, maybe I **wanted** everyone to see me, to feel my pain, maybe I **wanted** soldiers to find me and cut me down, maybe I **wanted** to die. No, not maybe, I **wanted** death to claim me, I wished for that with no compunction, despite the nagging voice inside my head whispering _"Kadar."_ Yet I kept on moving, hoping for the worst. Five sentries spotted me, and, in my mind's eye, I can see myself walking right towards them with no intention of stopping, suicidal, foolish, I was so **pathetic**. They became more alert by the second, hands on the handles of their swords, prepared to strike as I was getting closer. One last warning boomed over the bustle of people rushing to safety before they charge, aiming to kill me without hesitation. I spread my arms, just like  **you** did, just like the eagle of Masyaf did before me not long ago, welcoming the sweet embrace of death with peculiar serenity.

 

No such luck.

 

A familiar presence breaks the sweet lull of my demise, forlornly shouting my name, urging, begging me to move, to run to safety. And I was tired, so damn tired of running like the coward I knew I never was, but I felt like anyway. I was tired of living. Kadar's form materialises in front of me, young and unexperienced arms waving his novice sword left and right, desperate to protect a brother who was not even worthy of that effort. The wave of guilt that washed over me back then was crushing as it forced my thoughts to focus on the one person who needed me the most, Kadar. To this day, I wonder, and I will wonder and berate myself until God takes me. How could I throw away my baby brother's life so easily, without a trace of regret? How could I forget I was Kadar's rock in the harsh world we were brought into sans choice? How could I even think of that in the first place...? But then again, I always had an ounce of egoism hiding in my heart, waiting to come out at the most inopportune times. A sudden rush of energy flooded my senses, heating the red cells flowing through my veins as I pulled out my sword to join my brother's confrontation _"'Ana huna, shaqiq."_ Back to back, we defeated our assailants with deftness, taking to the roofs as soon as the last man fell to the ground.

 

We didn't speak much after we reached the bureau, Kadar only asking briefly and unsure if I was all right. We both knew I wasn't, but I answered anyway with a weak _"I'm fine"_. Then, night came, and along with it the nightmares replaying again and again and again the same image of a sword piercing your chest, rocks falling over your gore-stained body as I helplessly watched. In the that dark dream world of mine, rivulets of crimson liquid dripped through the gravel, gliding across the floor towards me as whispers snarled at me reproaches, blaming me, condemning me while they slowly took the immaculate form of the Master Assassin who gave his life for me. Emotionless eyes sent chills down my spine, but I dared not move, frozen to the spot as the illusion my mind was conjuring sauntered in my direction. Eerie gentle fingers caress the slashed skin of my cheeks, slithering down my half-exposed neck before coming under my chin, tilting my head. I felt my mouth opening to vocalise my fear, but nothing came out. Hollow eye sockets bore into my very soul as ghastly lips widen into a gruesome grin, trickles of blood drizzling down your chin and jaw. It kept flowing, and flowing, streaming down your ghoulish form, pooling at our feet until we were standing in a sea of red, "eye" contact never breaking. I flinched when I felt your cold puffs of breath nearing my face, icy skin pressing against my warm one, smearing blood all over me. I steeled myself for what I was going to do, brown orbs focused on two abysmal holes _"I love you."_

 

You laugh _"Then... why?"_

 

I woke up drenched in sweat, breath caught in my dry throat as Kadar kept shaking me in a frantic attempt to get me to respond. I did... after a while, but I wasn't able to talk about my nightmare. And it wasn't necessary, because Kadar already knew what, **who** tormented my mind.

 

We left for Masyaf the next day. Remorse ripped my heart apart with every trot our horses made on the dusty path leading us away from Jerusalem, away from you... I was leaving you behind again... I wanted to return and dig through all that rubble, with my bare hands if I had to, but Kadar stopped me, it was too much of a risk with the Templars still there and we had to go back to Al Mualim to report our failure. We arrived in Masyaf quite soon, heads hung low as we made our way to the citadel, me ignoring each one of our brothers' greeting, while Kadar tried to answer in like manner. The moments we spent standing before our Mentor flew by in a flash, my brother's words reverberating around us as I remained silent. I couldn't speak, I didn't want to. Huh, the old bastard didn't even bat an eyelash when Kadar told him about your premature departure, he was too busy getting furious because we didn't succeed in taking the treasure. I felt rage burning my insides, but I refrained from letting my reactions out. He dismissed us with an indolent wave. I wanted to break his fingers, his hands, his arms, his legs, his neck, I wanted to kill him. How could he ignore the death of the man who literally became his son!?!? That's how I knew something wasn't right within the Brotherhood. I knew, but I was too tired and too broken to fight so I let it go, at least for a while.

 

For days and days the same nightmare tortured both my conscious and subconscious, getting worse and worse every time as blood grew in quantity, as hollows glared and glowered at me accusingly, as you began to attack me, slash me, laugh at me, screaming, screeching, gloating, sneering. I needed to go back, but I couldn't, not yet, so I endured one more year until they stopped and I thought I was safe again at night. I was so wrong. Now, three years later, you're haunting me again, you want to tell me something, I feel it, and I am sure I do know what. You want to come home.

 


	3. Min Alalihat Walnufus/Of Gods And Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, it's been a while, but I haven't given up on this fic yet. It doesn't have many readers, yet I will keep writing until it's finished so those who will read can count on me whether it takes months or years for me to do that.
> 
> Cheers to the beginning of the actual plot! I hope you enjoy and I kindly ask you to leave comments!

Another year passes before I finally set out for Jerusalem and not one day ended without me thinking about you, your golden eyes, your annoying smirk... Forgive me... I should've done this sooner, but mission upon mission with the sole purpose of finding that damn treasure took me farther and farther away from you. Maybe it was for the best, maybe it was better burning in the sun than see your rotten flesh peel off your crumbled bones... Along the way, my nightmares changed, your ghostly form reverting to the way you used to be, alive and arrogant and stubborn, back to the you that somehow made me fall in love. It's peculiar, I was never the type to believe in such nonsense nor have I ever believed in the existence of a divine power. Yet here I am, certain that these illusions were never just a figment of my imagination, no, they are so much more, they are the only means for you to reach out to me.

 

Now, standing on my horse by the gates of Masyaf, my heart beats fast, my eyes burn with unshed tears while drops of sweat roll down my neck. The day of my departure has finally come. In hindsight, it was an utter challenge to convince that disgusting old man they call Mentor to give me leave. Yes, I say they because, to me, he's nothing but a greedy fool, a Shayṭān lurking amongst out people with the mission to destroy everything that we built. Kadar shares my thoughts and suspicions, but some might call us heretics to our cause. We have no evidence, but we can feel the evil looming over his head. He is not to be trusted and I will die before I let him find what he is looking for.

 

"As-salāmu ʿalaykum, shaqiq."

 

The parting words snap me out of my hate addled musings, light-gray eyes staring up at me with worry. Kadar has always been a fretful mother hen when it comes to those he cares about, but he made sure to never interfere with what ultimately needs to be done. I try to find some words of reassurement, for my journey will most likely involve at least one battle, but it would be in vain because it won't stop him from worrying further in my absence.

 

"As-salāmu ʿalaykum, al'akhu al'asghar. Take care until I return."

 

Mischief sparkles in his eyes and a smug smile appears on his lips. I already know that he will try to stay away from trouble as hard as he can, but I also have the certainty that he will inevitably fail. The only thing I'm hoping for is that those troubles won't kill him... a grim prospect if we take into consideration why I'm going to Jerusalem in the first place.

 

"Haven't I always?"

 

I chuckle at his question, ruffling his hair like I used to do when we were little, the atmosphere far lighter than moments ago. He pouts, of course he does, it has become his specialty long before he became an Assassin, the petulant side of him always winning over his maturity. Shaking with fondness, I spur on my horse, first into a trot then into a gallop, rocky canyon walls nothing more than a blur on either side of me. I should reach Jerusalem before some time sundown.

 

To say that I encountered problems along the way would a complete understatement. To say that bandits are smart folk would be an even bigger understatement. Somewhere between Duma and Dimashq, said lowlives deemed it a great idea to attack an Assassin. That, in return, had earned them their deaths and it brought me a lot more complications in the form of Saracen soldiers, twenty-two Saracen soldiers precisely. A bloodbath followed, as was expected, a bloodbath that almost cost me my left arm. Fortunately, I managed to cut all of them down and flee to Harasta before the commotion  attracted more trouble.

 

That's how I find myself sitting in an abandoned cottage on the outskirts of the village, tending to the deep gash on my arm as the continues its descent. Thankfully, few Saracens lurk in this area since it is of little importance compared to the bigger cities. It takes a while before the bleeding stops and, when it does, my head is spinning from the massive loss while every part of my body is either painfully cold or just too numb to feel the iciness. Through all this, I manage to wrap the wound as best as I can, finishing seconds away from the moment my eyes decide to shut on their own accord and I can feel myself falling into darkness.

 

I hear nothing, I see nothing, I'm blind, I'm deaf, perhaps even mute. It's so quiet, so peaceful, is this what it means to be dead?

 

◇◇◇

 

_Like a beacon to his question, a white flame kindles before his eyes in the pitch-black abyss, akin to a four-pointed star lighting his path. It takes him by surprise when a silhouette begins to form in the shape of a long-bearded man with a swirling crest on his head and intricate flowing robes spread around him kindred to a warm halo._

 

_When he speaks, his voice is booming, an auditive earthquake meant intimidate the ones who dare step into his domain._

 

_"Who stands before the mighty God of Sun?"_

 

_Naturally, Malik would have answered with sarcasm and wit, he never believed in gods after all so why be meek by showing obedience. This time however, cautiousness and tact are the better choice without a doubt, he has always prided himself because never once had his instinct failed him, even if it is a mere dream. His answer is laced with sincere enough respect and composure, retaining part of his fierceness as well._

 

_"Malik Al-Sayf."_

 

_"I've been waiting for you. Your pain has reached me, human."_

 

_Confused eyes stare at the towering figure of the god, narrowing slightly both in suspicion and curiosity. He remains silent._

 

_"The sun shall rise and burn those lurching in injustice, souls lost to sacrifice and love shall light their way out of the darkness, the morning star shining as their guide and shattering their curses."_

 

_Each word echoes in the moonless void, the giant God fading along with it as all becomes an unfathomable swirl until a haunting whisper jolts him back to life._

 

**_"Malik."_ **

 


End file.
